Venus, You Sly Minx
by webcomix
Summary: Lovino prefers to stay hidden in his garden than to speak to any of the men flocking to his gate. Unfortunately, one guy is too stubborn. Or just stupid. Probably both. One-shot. Rated for mouth. Inspired by the Roman myth of Pomona and Vertumnus.


**A/N: As a kid, I was a big mythology nerd. That's how I got into Hetalia - because history and culture has always fascinated me C: So as a tribute to my childhood, here's a fun little Roman myth all Hetaliafied for you!**

**Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

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Meet Lovino Vargas, the bane of every country boy's existence.

Many a time folk would be walking along the bright, sunny paths that wandered over the hills and meadows, before suddenly coming across his garden. They would stop and gaze in awe at the natural beauty of the neat little rows of vegetables, the carefully pruned orchard of fruit trees, and tough, curling vines that snaked around whatever they could find. But most of all, everybody stopped to stare at the most beautiful sight of all: Lovino, dressed in a simple brown tunic, leaves carelessly caught in his auburn hair, working the soil.

Too bad that most of them would then witness something significantly less beautiful: his language.

It wasn't enough to turn off the crowds of men hovering around, all of them hoping to catch the eye of the grumpy gardener. Yet Lovino scorned them all. He was not about to give up his hard work for something so unproductive as love. That Venus was a sneaky lady, getting her kid to flit about duping people until they were frantically offering sacrifices and fervent prayers. No wonder she was so damn popular.

As retaliation, Lovino never went near her altar. In fact, he hardly ever left his beloved trees and plants. His suitors stayed too. Then one morning, Francis Bonnefoy happened to be passing by.

One of the goddess's most ardent worshippers, he took one look at Lovino, announced, "Ah! I like the looks of that," and promptly went about wooing him. Coming from a fertile country himself, Francis tried to plie Lovino with gifts of the land, but was completely ignored. In the end, his patience wore out and more actively began to pursue Lovino. Literally. The surrounding farms had quite a surprise seeing their reclusive neighbour streaking through the fields, shrieking profanities with a Frenchman hot on his trail.

Not long afterward, Lovino had another memorable guest. Everybody else heard the heavy steps of the hard, travel-worn boots and the loud laugh; they all saw the twitching, blood-red cape that sent up clouds of dust on the road. All except Lovino, who was busy digging up weeds, thereby missing the arrival of Gilbert Beilschimdt.

The rumours circulated quickly. A hardened warrior, that was the general consensus. An escaped prince, whispered some. The son of Mars, murmured yet others. Either way, anyone could see in the dark red eyes that Gilbert would go to great lengths to achieve anything he wanted.

So unlike Francis, who enjoyed playing by the rules of courting, Gilbert confidently traipsed right into Lovino's garden and barked, "Yo, hotcakes! Why don't you wash up and join the league of awesome, babe?"

Lovino simply scowled. "Wash your own big head, asshole!"

He was also kind enough to provide the water, an entire bucketful into Gilbert's arrogant face.

Even more mortifying for the mercenary was the bray of laughter coming from the path - Francis was back, still trying to get on Lovino's good side. Gilbert, however, was not one to sit dumbly, allowing himself to be made fun of.

"Hey!" He growled, drawing his rapier. "How dare you disrespect the awesome that is me!"

Francis whipped out his own small sword, expertly swishing it through the air in a mocking fencing salute. "Awesome? How about unlearned?" he sneered. "Challenging the progenitor of sword fighting itself? Some intelligence you have there."

Actually, the Spanish people developed it, but nobody made to correct him as a duel of unparalleled fortitude commenced right there in the field. Both fought hard to maintain their pride, eventually forgetting the cause of all this in the first place. Lovino remained behind one of his precious trees, screeching at everybody to leave him the FUCK alone.

In the end, the two men retreated to a nearby bar, exhausted from the fight and disheartened by their failure. After the consumption of many bottles of hard liqour, Francis and Gilbert left as great friends. Funny how these things happen, right?

As for Lovino, he decided that he finally had had enough of this ridiculous suitor business. The next few weeks were dedicated to creating a high stone wall around his garden. From thereon after, the only way anyone could see the pretty boy was to peek through the strong metal bars of the front gate.

* * *

Seasons passed. Crops were harvested and put away. Proserpina fled the dark halls of Pluto's underworld palace, and Ceres blessed the world with spring. Lovino was delighted to return to his garden.

Fewer suitors came to woo him, which is exactly how he wanted it. Passers-by no longer stopped to admire the fruits and vegetables as they only noticed the formidable wall of rock. Antonio Carriedo would have gone on too if curiosity hadn't prompted him to peek around the gate.

Like so many before him, Antonio fell prey to Lovino's least favourite goddess's wiles. A simple man, he forgot all about any previous goal and returned each day to sit at the gate, waiting for the slim chance to see his adorable Lovino walk past just once more.

One morning, he was treated to the sound of conversation as well.

"Ve, big brother Lovi!" A whimsical, lilting tone drifted towards him. "Why do you have no flowers in your garden, veee?"

"You can't eat flowers, Feli," retorted another voice. Antonio pressed his forehead against the cold metal, begging the gods to let him hear it again.

"Ooh, look, the bees like me," sang Feliciano, for it was he who was visiting. Feliciano was always welcome in the area, for whenever he was there, all knew spring was on its way. He was one of the privileged people actually allowed into Lovino's garden, mostly because he helped the plants thrive.

"They can help pollinate your veggies, ve!" Feliciano gently stroked a cherry blossom. "They're so pretty! Your garden would look like this in the summer too if you grew flowers..."

"Plant your own if you want to see the damn flowers!"

Feliciano took the words to heart and was soon humming cheerfully in the meadow just across the way, scattering seeds across the fields. The children enjoyed his flexible nature and quickly, the younger Vargas brother was the one surrounded by flocks of people. However, one person remained at Lovino's gate every morning.

Lovino wasn't stupid. He saw the same mop of curly brown hair, hapless green eyes and vapid grin every single time he crossed his garden. Since the idiot never bothered him outright, Lovino just ignored him. After all, the wall kept him far away. But as days passed, Lovino couldn't help feeling slightly bothered each morning when Antonio appeared at his gate yet again. By the time summer had ripened over the countryside, Lovino felt like smashing something whenever he saw that smile.

So finally, he stomped over and yelled at him to stop blocking the road. And refused to listen when Antonio tried to point out that there was quite enough space for two carts to pass even with him standing there. Lovino came back one more time - to hang a sign decreeing, "LAZY SHITS WILL BE PROSECUTED LIKE HELL."

In Latin, no less!

Antonio realized that there was no way he could get into that elusive garden as himself. One fine day, Lovino's daily watering was interrupted by a shout from beyond the wall.

"Barley ears! Come buy my fresh barley ears!"

Curious, Lovino peered through the bars of the gate. A man dressed as a gatherer was hawking his wares to the travellers on the road. Lovino opened the gate a tiny crack to inspect the grains.

"Pah!" He sniffed, after a moment's glance. "Fresh, my ass. Tell whatever farmer you got your sad excuse for produce from that he harvested way too early. Half of these are still green!"

The gate clanged shut loudly. Antonio sighed.

The next morning, Lovino noticed a shepherd milling about aimlessly just outside. When he approached the gate, the shepherd instantly greeted him.

"Good morning! Have any animals to bring out to pasture?"

Lovino scowled. "Are you fucking blind? See any? The grazing fields are to the west, moron."

He snatched up his hoe and stalked back to the vegetable patch. Antonio pulled off his hat and frowned.

On the third day, the sun was high as Lovino hefted a large basket of tomatoes across his garden. A whistle distracted him from the task, and he irritably turned his head to see who caused it.

"Hey there!" A man stood waving at his gate, a ladder innocently by his side. "Need any help with the fruit trees? I'm a hard worker, promise!"

Lovino eyed his sign before sizing the fruit picker up. Tall, that was good. Strong, a definite plus. He looked up into the tanned face, about to consent when he recognized the man's green eyes.

"BASTARD!" He shrieked, jumping away from the gate. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Lovino grabbed one of his precious tomatoes and hurled it through the bars. "Stop bothering me! Go away and never come back!"

Antonio didn't move, staring at the red juice staining his clothes. Then finally, head bowed in sadness, he began walking down the road. Lovino let out the breath he had been holding in before picking up his basket again.

* * *

"It's hopeless," Antonio wailed.

He was slouched over an untouched glass of wine, glumly tugging at the bare threads of the tablecloth. His friends waited patiently for him to finish his lamentations.

"I'm doomed to be alone forever," he groaned before resting his head on the table. Though there probably was a better word to use than 'rest' - the resulting thud almost knocked over the wine, which was hastily snatched up by one of his companions.

"Relax, Toni," Francis quipped before draining the glass. "There are plenty of others out there."

"Yeah! Quit being such an unawesome bore." Gilbert stretched his arms, tipping the seat back precariously. "And so what. It happens to the best of us. Like me, for example! Did I tell you about the time when I..."

He was cut off (for the better) by the Spaniard's persistent whine. "But I don't WANT anyone else but Lovino!"

Francis nearly choked on his drink and Gilbert fell off his chair.

"Wait, WHAT?" He spluttered, scrambling back up. "You're after that little farmer brat?"

"Oh, you know him?" The smile returned to Antonio's face for a moment. "I used to watch him every day, until..." It disappeared just as quickly. Francis grasped him firmly by the shoulders.

"Antonio. Forget about it. That ship sailed a long, long time ago. We," He nodded to Gilbert and himself. "Would know. The boy won't let anybody come near him."

"Anyone who makes a move on him," added Gilbert, who was now scowling into his own glass. Antonio had stopped listening by this point. He had an infuriating habit of zoning out on them. Luckily, both Francis and Gilbert had learned patience (to a degree) in the past year. After a few minutes of gazing blankly into space, Antonio jumped up excitedly.

"Ah!" He gasped. "That just might work!" With that, he bolted from the bar. Gilbert turned to Francis.

"What was that?"

Francis shrugged. "An epiphany, I guess. Come on, let's go to the temple of Venus. He's going to need all the help he can get."

* * *

Lovino was pruning the apple trees when the sound of sandals against the path caught his ears. He frowned, muscles tensing up. Ever since the incident with the tomatoes, his last faithful suitor had yet to return. Which, Lovino sternly reminded himself, was all for the better.

This time, the person who he spied upon from up between the branches, over the wall, was small and hunched over, hidden beneath a swath of cloth. Lovino watched as the old woman hobbled along, leaning against her walking stick heavily. Then, inexplicably, she tripped over a stone and went smashing into the ground.

With an urgent yelp, the young gardener leaped from his perch and ran to the gate. "Aii!" He rushed over to the shaking figure and helped her to her feet. "Are you alright?"

For once, the gate was wide open. Lovino assisted the woman through, carefully seating her onto a bench. "Are you hurt? Do you need anything, a drink?" He knelt down in front of her. "Or fruit? I have plenty of that, grandmother."

Never before had there been such honest concern and worry in Lovino's face. He tilted his head, trying to see past the shadowed hood. "Grandmother...?"

A low, gravelly voice responded from beneath the headdress. "My...what a wonderful garden."

Lovino stood up, gazing around, distracted. The woman continued. "As beautiful as your lovely self. Do you work here alone?"

"Yeah." Lovino sat down onto the bench next to her. "I've no need for a crowd of bumbling fools messing up MY garden. There aren't many people I can trust."

"Ahhh." She tapped her walking stick against the soil. "That is your mistake, my sweet. Everybody needs a companion."

Lovino frowned. Whatever on Earth made this random stranger think she had the right to make assumptions about his life? He opened his mouth to challenge her, but the words never came out. All too quickly, a hand shot out from beneath the folds of the travelling cloak, grabbing Lovino's arm. Before the boy could cry out in surprise, a pair of eager lips collided with his own.

Such a passionate kiss from a doddering old crone gave Lovino every right to scream. He took off towards the refuge of his orchard, but she followed, chastising him the entire time.

"Lovino," she called as he dodged past the trunks. "Don't deny my wisdom! Think of your precious vines. To where do they climb to? The tall branches of another tree. The vine cannot live without that tree. In return, the tree is useless without the vine to adorn it. Think about it, Lovi."

The gardener paused behind an olive tree close to the vegetable patch. He stood there panting, wondering if he could make a run for it. He could still hear her voice carrying over, seemingly growing louder and stronger with each breath.

"I know you fear empty words, betrayal, even abandonment! This is true for many men, who change affections as quickly as the weather. But mark my words, Lovi, there is one person who will remain true to you."

Lovi. Nobody else called him Lovi except for Feliciano, who was probably rolling around in his freakin' daisies over there in the meadow. Lovino edged around the trunk, now facing his beloved tomatoes.

"Do you remember, Lovi?" The voice was closer than ever. "The one person who came back every day, waiting patiently at your gate? Simply watching you, longing only to be by your side and make you happy..."

Lovino darted out from the shelter of the olive tree's branches, but jerked backwards as the edge of his tunic caught onto one of the tomato plant's poles. Before he could tug himself free, a shadow fell over him. Oh, damn it all!

A whisper filled his ear and he froze in terror. It was nothing like the quivering tones of the woman from the road. "Antonio loves you, Lovi. He was born to love you, and will do so until he dies..."

Lovino's face flushed, mirroring the shade of the small red bulbs of fruit around him. He could feel firm fingers wrapping themselves around his shoulder, moments before he was forcefully spun around. With his other free hand, Antonio finally ripped off the headdress and kissed Lovino again.

"I will never leave you, I swear."

Lovino was trapped in the arms of his impassioned captor, unable to resist the constant flow of kisses being planted all over his face. Almost like parasites, he felt them take root beneath his skin, burrowing so deep inside that Lovino knew he could never get them out. The agitated facade slowly began to crack...

Damn Venus, that cunning, manipulative bitch!

Antonio became aware of just how still his precious prisoner had become. He chanced one moment of not eating off his face to look into those gorgeous, unreadable hazel eyes.

"Let me go."

The words were announced in a flat, calm manner. This worried Antonio, but he consented, carefully releasing him. Lovino had been caught with his arms pressed up against Antonio's chest. Having felt the vigorous pounding of Antonio's heart, Lovino now traced a finger down his arms, ultimately reaching his hands. He slowly lifted them up.

Rough and calloused, like any worker would have. Not a liar, then. Against his own mind's protests, Lovino curled his fingers around the browned skin.

"Come on, then. We have a lot to do."

It took a while for the command to sink in. Antonio looked closely at him. "You mean...?"

"That bitch of a goddess will be whining for a sacrifice, so you're going to help me find the best fruit, capisce?"

Sol had a difficult time for the rest of the day, as Antonio's smile outshone even his golden chariot. And the day after. He really had to work those horses to continue being the brightest thing in the sky. Because from then on, Venus's blessings determined fertile soil and happy harvests for the beautiful garden behind the wall.

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**A/N: I loved writing this one. A lot of narration at first, but it made me feel almost like a character myself! And it was fun injecting some swordfighting history into here too =D I was going to give Gilbert a broadsword but that's uncomely in a duel.  
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**Pomona was mostly the goddess of trees, but it's Lovi! I had to include garden plants too. For the other characters, Antonio is obviously Vertumnus, with Francis as Silvanus and Gilbert being Picus. Feliciano was meant to be Flora, goddess of spring. **


End file.
